Cafe on the Greenville
by bloodrosered
Summary: On her way to find her dreams of becoming a musician, Abby Rhoades finds herself stranded in Greenville. She meets the Once-ler and befriends him. For now T for language
1. Stranded

_Stranded_

Well, it's 7 am. I've been sleeping for hours since I left the city. My Dad gave me enough money to find my own place and to survive. He encouraged me to go out there and chase my dreams, wherever it may be. I want to be a musician...like my Dad. He was successful in a small way. He made more playing in the city. My mom left...Dad took me along on his tour. He taught me everything about the music business...that dreams start small...then they grow...like a tree.

Heh.

Anyway, I heard the garbled announcement that we're stopping in a small town for a break. Blinking my eyes, I was glad to get off so I could pee. Maybe grab a newspaper to read on the bus. I've read same book since I left the city.

I look around the town to see if there's a coffee house somewhere. There's one called Cafe on the Greenville.

_Oh how original! _I thought with an eyeroll.

I went in to order a coffee and reach into my pocket to grab my pocket money to pay. All my other stuff is on the bus. I'd better hurry back before it leaves. I sort-of power walked after getting my coffee and breakfast sandwich...and it left! All my stuff was on there!

"FUCK!" I cursed LOUDLY, stamping my foot as I saw the bus drive away. "Fucky fuckity fucking cocksucking fuck!"

After my little outburst, I see all the town people staring at me in shock. _Great! Fucking great, Abby! _I groaned, feeling my cheeks burn.

Groaning in irritation, I sat down on a bench. Already on my way to achieve my dream and I get stranded...with no money or clothes! Shit! I buried my head in my hands. Where am I supposed to stay? Where am I supposed to go? All I have ten dollars in my pocket after I bought my coffee and egg sandwich. Well, I guess I'll have to call the bus station and report my missing luggage. Good thing I kept my ticket so I knew what bus number it was.

I look around the square of Greenville. It seems like a nice town. Friendly even. Although I'm sure they're staring at the weirdo with the dyed black hair with pink highlights. I'm actually a blonde, but I don't think they have any fun. I have a nose stud. Lots of earrings. Dark clothes with some pink. Yea, someone like me doesn't belong here in a town like this. I'm a city girl coming to a small town. I stick out like a GIANT nose on a stupid face.

I really like pink! I don't know why...it goes well with black. I clutch on to Bad Bettie, my Dad's guitar. Yea. There's a painting of Bettie Page on the body. Don't know why. Dad just said he liked her at the time it was painted.

I bury my head in my hands. I'm stuck here! I groan loudly in irritation...and silently curse to myself.

"Uh," says a voice from behind me. "Are you OK?"

I turn around and see a young man sitting on the bench behind me. He looks a bit uneasy. I look him over. He's cute, I guess. His blue eyes are hidden under his shaggy raven hair that is swept to the side, shaded by a grey fedora. His round cheeks and the bridge of his button nose are dotted with light freckles. His attire is a white shirt, a grey vest and something fuzzy and pink around his neck. His pants are striped grey. His shoes are black and worn looking. I'm guessing he's staring at me because I look so out of place.

"I'm fine," I said.

"A lot of people were talking about some crazy girl who was having a temper tantrum at the bus stop," he said.

Blush on my face. _Jesus Christ!_ I thought. I looked like a damn fool.

"Do you always act like that?" he asked cautiously.

"Mm sometimes," I admitted. "Like when bad stuff happens...like stubbing my toe or losing my money or missing the bus with all my shit on it."

"Which of those happened to you?"

"The last one."

"Oh. I see."

"Yea. I'm stuck here. Everything was on the bus: my money, my clothes..."

"Well, that's a shame. What are you gonna do?"

"Might have to call the bus company and have it shipped here," I said with a shrug. "I don't want to leave without my stuff."

"Where are you going to ship it if you have nowhere to go?" he asks.

I shrug again. "I'll figure something out."

"OK then," he said. "So where are you gonna stay?"

Another shrug. Jeez! I hadn't thought about that. "Probably at the bus stop."

"You're not going to be uncomfortable?" he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Mm. I'll be fine. I'm used to it anyway. I never really had a place to call home anyway because my Dad and I traveled a lot whenever he and his band did gigs. I slept in vans and motel rooms mostly."

The young man smiled. "Sounds exciting. You probably got to see a lot of places."

Now it was my turn to smile. "Yea."

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" he asks.

"Do you have phone?" I ask.

"No. Sorry. I'm not exactly flowing with cash either."

I laugh a little. "Well, we have something in common: we're two broke people."

He chuckled. "Indeed!"

"Well, I better go find a phone somewhere in this town and call the bus stop. It was nice talking to you."

"Nice talking to you too," he said. "Um...I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, it's Abby. Abby Rhoades." I paused for a moment. "And before you make any jokes, for the love of God, PLEASE don't mention the Beatles album. It's really annoying."

"What do you..." he was about to ask, then he realized what I was talking about. "Oh! I get it now! But why do you hate them?"

"Oh, I have nothing against them. I love the Beatles, it's just annoying to hear it all the time. And the kids would tease me about it. Every time I told them my name, they always would be like 'oh! like the Beatles'. It's just annoying."

"It's not that bad. I'm sure it's not as weird as my name though," he said.

"How bad could your name be as mine?" I said with raised eyebrows. The dude seemed to be normal looking to me so I guessed his name is.

"It's the Once-ler," he said.

OK, I swear my eyebrows are raised up so high that it actually hurts. Wow! I have no idea how to respond to that. That IS a weird name. I don't know whether to laugh or just keep staring like an idiot.

"Um...are you alright?" asked the dude named the Once-ler.

"S-sorry," I said embarrassed. "I mean, yea that's a weird name...but, it's alright. It fits you."

He looked a bit sheepish. "Um...thanks," he said. "People teased me about my name as well."

I tsh-ed a small laugh. "Another thing we got in common. People make fun of our names."

Another chuckle from him. "Well, good luck finding your stuff. I hope to see you around more, Abby."

"Thanks, Once-ler," I said. "Nice talking to you."

_Wow._ I thought. He seemed pretty nice. It was nice to talk to someone since I got here to Greenville. _  
_


	2. Wayfaring Stranger

_Wayfaring Stranger_

After talking to that nice guy named the Once-ler, I went to the bus station and called them from a pay phone.

"Yea," I said. "I'd like to report my luggage lost."

I gave them the bus I was on and where I was. They said it might take a few weeks, they needed a phone number to give me updates about my lost luggage. I really didn't want to lose my stuff...but I had no phone number. I look around for a place...and all I can see is Cafe on the Greenville. I look up their phone number in the book.

Once I'm done talking to them, I walk over to the cafe. I ask the bored looking teenage boy if I can talk to the owner. He steps away and a surly looking woman with red hair, dark eyes and an average figure.

"Yea?" she said.

"Um...look I need a favor," I said. "I lost my luggage and I needed to give them a phone number. So I gave them this number. Is that alright?"

"I ain't your secretary," she replies.

_OK,_ I thought. _Someone's a cranky bitch._ "Look, I'm stranded here...I have no money and..."

The phone cuts off our conversation. I'm hoping that's the bus company. The woman answers the phone.

"You're taking ANOTHER mental health day?!" she yelled. "Jesus Christ, Marlene! This is your fifth one this week! Y'know what? Don't bother coming in tomorrow."

She slams the phone down. I look up nonchalantly, pretending to not be there. I definitely do NOT want to work for this woman.

"Um you!" she said.

I look at this boss lady. "Who me?"

"No," she replied sarcastically. "The stupid girl behind you. Yes, you! I need another barista here...immediately because rush hour is coming soon."

I frown in annoyance. "What makes you think I want to work for you?" I snap.

"Hey, if you work for me until I find a replacement, I'll let you stick around to find out about your lost luggage."

OK, I thought. A job in exchange for a phone call. Jeez! I feel like a whore in lock-up...sort of. Besides, I only had ten dollars in my pocket. I needed to save up some money until I can get my luggage back. Let's just hope no one stole my life savings that my Dad gave me.

"Fine," I said. "But I want to work at the salary I want."

"Don't push your luck, girlie," said the boss lady. "And get rid of those highlights by tomorrow."

"Yea, don't push YOUR luck, boss lady," I replied acidly. "I can walk away right now."

She sighed in exasperation. "Fine. You can keep the highlights." She paused. "Well, don't just stand around there. Get an apron on and get to work."

I rolled my eyes and followed her behind the counter, grabbing a black apron.

"I didn't catch your name," said the boss lady. "I'll go make you a name tag."

"It's Abby Rhodes," I said. "That's Abby with a Y and no EY."

"Oh, like the Beatles song," said the boss lady.

I sighed with a head shake, knowing that was what she was going to say. She of course went into the back while I worked behind the counter with two other teenagers, making coffee. It was rush hour and customers were pouring in for coffee, shouting their orders over the noise, the hiss of the expresso machine, feeling the heat from the coffee, remembering orders as best I can and trying not to spill anything. My head was spinning like crazy...

Eventually it slowed down. Between the hours of 6 and 10 PM, there were customers who stayed there late, sipping coffee and gobbling pastries, reading a book or just talking, lounging around on the sofas. The baristas called them 'hanger-'rounders'. I found out they had open-mic nights at Cafe on the Greenville every Thursday night. I was definitely going to sign up so I could be discovered. Maybe earn some change like my Dad taught me. Keep some money in the guitar case to make it look like people had given money.

Soon as it was closing time, I was ever relieved and exhausted that it was time to go home. The other baristas looked in the giant glass jar, counting the tips and dividing it up. I'm really good at math and Dad told me all about tip division when he worked as a waiter as a starving musician. They said they ALWAYS screw the new person. Don't let them take advantage.

"Hey, Abby," said the boss lady. "You wanna come in tomorrow, same time?"

"Um...sure," I said. "I didn't get your name either."

"It's Susan," said the woman. "I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

As soon as the lights go out on Cafe on the Greenville, it's dark in the street. I'm clutching Bad Bettie and looking around. Where was I going to sleep now? It was getting cold. I might as well go to the bus station...

I get there, it's closed.

"FUCK!" I yelled, pounding on the glass doors.

Can you believe my luck?! I guess I could sleep on a bench for now. I dug through the trash, hoping there'd be a newspaper I could sleep under. There's one, thankfully and I clutch it tightly, sleeping on a bench like a park bum in the city. I curl up with Bad Bettie held tightly to my chest, trying to keep the cold night air out. I look up at the sky and see the stars twinkling like diamonds.

"'Scuse me," said a voice.

I look up and see a policeman staring down at me. I don't like cops very much. They're horrible in the city.

"No loitering," he said. "Move along."

"C'mon!" I said with an exasperated whine. "This is bullshit! The bus station is closed and I have nowhere to go."

"Not my problem, move along."

I sigh, picking up the newspaper and Bad Bettie and of course I 'move along', feeling the strong urge to flip off this cop. I resist because God forbid I end up in jail...and I have no one to call to bail me out. My Dad is too far away...not that he would come and get me, but I'd rather not bother him. And I'm new to this town.

Jesus Christ! Where the FUCK am I supposed to sleep?! It's fucking cold and I'm stranded in this uptight town who apparently is too strict to let a stray sleep on a bench for one night. I kick a rock and look towards the outskirts of town. I've camped out in the woods with my Dad a few times, who taught me how to survive and stuff...but never in the open air.

Well, might as well...can't sleep on the bench in Greenville. I walk towards the woods, looking up at the trees. They're pretty cool. I have never seen trees like this before. I find a rather sturdy one and lean against it and drift off to sleep...I have to admit that it was comfortable.

Many hours later, I hear roosters crowing somewhere. The sun was barely up and I blink my eyes sleepily...and there's a pair of long legs right in front of me. Great! Fucking cop is going to bother me about sleeping in the woods again.

"Hey go fuck..." I said angrily...then look up and it's that dude named Once-ler. Immediately, I'm blushing as red as a tomato. _Nice going, Abby!_ I thought. _You were just rude to the nicest guy in Greenville...well, so far._ "Uhh...sorry. I thought you were...a cop."

"Did you sleep out here?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

More flushing from my cheeks. Jeez! I don't know why I'm embarrassed...it's not like I haven't done this before. I guess it's getting caught in the act was. Who knows?

"Yea," I said, my voice shaking. "But I was comfortable...and I don't mind."

"Need a hand?" he said, offering to help me up.

Though I didn't think it was necessary, I figured why not? I take it and he pulls me to my feet and felt his hand: the palm is smooth, but he's definitely a guitar player. Hehe! I can tell by the callouses on his fingertips.

As soon as I'm to my feet, almost immediately, I'm nose-to-nose with the dude and...Oh my GOD! I can actually see how beautiful this guy's eyes are: they're like sapphires decorated with thick, natural lashes. And the freckles on his cheeks and nose.

_OK! Abby!_ I scold. _You seriously need to calm...the...fuck...down. _

"Uh...sorry," I said, embarrassed.

"It's alright," he said, he was blushing a bit.

"So how come you're up so early?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"How come you're sleeping in the woods?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes.

"OK...I thought the bus station would be open, but it turns out they stop operation at 10 PM. So, I had nowhere to go. I tried sleeping on a bench, but apparently they have a thing about vagrancy...so I slept in the woods."

"Well, that doesn't seem right," said Once-ler. "Why don't you come stay with me until you get your stuff back?"

For real? I thought. It didn't seem right to loaf off of this guy. Plus I had to stick around in case the bus company called the Cafe.

"You don't have to do that," I said.

"Nah," he said. "Company with a human would be nice."

I furrowed my eyebrows, but I guess that meant he obviously lived alone...I'm guessing in the woods.

"Are you...sure?" I said hesitant. "I'm not exactly a neat person."

"C'mon. Would you rather sleep outside or in a bed?"

I wanted to argue, but he did have a point. I am a survivalist, but I guess I could put up with it until I got my stuff back.

"O-OK," I replied with reluctance. "Also...do you have a shower? I don't think I've had one since I got here."

"Mm...no," he said. "There's a lake nearby. I'll make sure you have privacy. And how about pancakes? You must be hungry."

I shrug. "OK then."

We walk back through the forest and I look up admiringly at these trees. There's some kind of sweet aroma in the air. I can't describe it really, but I get a sense of relaxation. Just the entirety of the forest gives it that atmosphere.

"These trees are interesting," I said, looking at the colorful tops that remind me of hair.

"They're called Truffula trees," said Once-ler.

"That's a name I've never heard of before," I said. "I don't think I've ever seen that in any book I've read."

He smiled. "Well, here we are."

It was just like a typical fairy tale setting: a small cottage in the woods...except it looked more like a tent. It was yellow and green with a stained glass window, a green door with his name in yellow above it. There's a small outhouse around the corner of it. The windows have shades that are held up by sticks. There's a laundry line with his clothes hanging off the back with a giant tub with water in it. A lawn chair and table.

"I'll go get you a towel and soap so you can...er...bathe," he said.

He goes inside and a few moments later returns with a bar of soap and a fluffy towel.

"Thanks," I said.

"Y'r welcome," he sort of mumbles embarrassed. "I'll...uh...just go inside and make pancakes. Give you some privacy."

"Thanks," I said.

He goes back inside his house, closing the door. I look around and strip out of my clothes. I don't think there's anyone around...well probably animals, but they're hiding. But so what? It's not like they're going to...

Oh! Now I hear mischievous giggling coming from the pond and see some goldfish sticking their heads out. Jeez! A girl can't get any privacy!

"Hey!" I said to them. "Do you MIND? I'm trying to take a bath."

They dipped their heads back under the surface of the water. Great! They're probably going to see my naked body under the water. Oh! Let's hope not. I'm not embarrassed by my body. It's average with a little bit of curves in my hips. Jeez! I hate them. I have a scar on my right side from when I had my appendix removed as a kid. I have two tattoos: a heart on my left hip. A 16th birthday present from my Dad...sounds unconventional, but I think it's cool. I have a green fairy on my right shoulder: another present from my Dad when I turned 18 when I tried my first drink: absinthe. Dad said one of his bandmates got it while in Europe. The stuff is illegal here. Let's just say the experience from the ordeal is something you never forget. All I remember is seeing the little green fairy on the bottle the first line from 'The Sound of Music' in a soprano voice with a mingle of psychedelic rock music.

I intend to get my hands on that drink again when I become a famous rock star.

The water is cold and goosebumps form all over my body, but I slowly wade in until only my shoulders are exposed. I dip my head under to wet my pixie dyed hair. After blinking a few times, I see something orange with yellow...strange bush? I dunno. Wiping my eyes again, there's this fuzzy creature...

"JESUS CHRIST!" I scream.

"What...in Nature's breath...?!" screamed the creature.


	3. Pressure

_Minstrel_

Well, there was this furry orange mustached creature that scared the living shit out of me. It just came out of nowhere...and it saw me naked. I hoped I wasn't dreaming...I wasn't drunk or high. But this orange looked like something I would see in that kind of state.

"Who are you?" it demanded bossily.

Jeez! I think. I gotta deal with my new crazy bitch boss, Susan, and now a talking cat?! Well, I don't know what the hell it is.

"OK," I said, covering my chest. "First off, I'm naked. So do you mind? And secondly, did you see anything? Because speak now."

"Well, Beanpole didn't tell me he had a guest of the female persuasion over," it replied, crossing its arms with a look of disapproval.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that Beanpole is a nickname this orange gave to Once-ler.

"Oh and I suppose he has to run shit by you?" I snap back. "What are you, King of the Forest or something?"

"Well if you must know, yes," he replied. "This is my forest."

"What in the name of Sam Hill...?!" I hear Once-ler's voice say.

Almost immediately, I duck under the water up to my face. Jesus Christ! Like I'm already embarrassed enough!

"What is going on here, Beanpole? You told me nobody else was living with you?" said the orange.

"Well, she needs a place to stay...for a few days until she gets her stuff back," Once-ler said.

"Yea, y'know who says that? Gypsies. I've already decided to let you stay because of our deal."

"Excuse me!" I yell. "I'm still here. Do you two mind?!"

Once-ler is beet red and turns away, rubbing his neck. "Er...sorry, Abby. I'll get out of here."

"You better hurry up with your bath," said the orange. "Because once you're done, it's time for you to go, Gypsy girl."

I sigh in exasperation and just finish my unrelaxing bath, dry off and wrap my towel around, picking up my clothes...when I turn around, there's a huge group of bears, standing around me, some are giggling and staring. I'm gonna guess they saw me in my full glory. Jeez! I hate getting undressed in front of an audience, human OR animal.

I practically run towards Once-ler's house, still in a towel. He sees me and of course, blushes red.

"I guess...I'll...uh...go outside," he said. "Let you get dressed."

He stepped out and I was relieved to be alone so I can get dressed. Once my clothes are on, I let him know I was decent.

"Good," he said, coming back inside. "I made pancakes."

"Great. I'm starving," I said.

I plop into a seat and he brings over a stack of golden, fluffy pancakes. And these aren't the kind that are easy-make out of a box. I mean, these are like homemade like Mom would make on Sunday morning...not that I know what having a mom is like since she loved herself more than me. I was kind of glad she left...though I barely remember her. She just kind of passed by like a dream. Besides, I'm a Daddy's girl anyway. Dad taught me how to survive. His cooking was always something in a box or a can. Not that I minded, at least it was food.

"Good?" he asks.

"Yea," I said. "Delicious. I'm guessing your mom taught you how to cook."

The young man is silent and uncomfortable. He shrugged. "Self-taught, actually," he replied.

Wow! A young man like him taught himself to take care of himself...I'm gonna guess single mom, drunk and lazy. I don't want to ask about his personal life just yet. I barely know the dude.

"That's cool. At least you know how to survive on your own," I said.

He smiled a little. "Yea. It's important to know how to take care of yourself because no one is going to do it for you."

"Amen to that," I reply with a smile.

OK. I'm pretty sure this man came from a dysfunctional family now by that sentence.

"So, Abby," he asked. "Do you always sleep on benches and outside?"

"Like I said before," I said. "I'm used to it..."

"Right. You traveled a lot with your Dad. I'm guessing you slept like that?"

"Sometimes," I said. "He always made sure I had what I needed though: food, clothes...stuff like that. Sometimes we slept in motels, vans, cars...anywhere. I traveled with him and his band. Most of their gigs were small, but still they made money. They had jobs besides that...like waiters or bouncers, stuff they could make in the day."

"And your mom didn't mind?"

I was surprised he asked. "Actually, I don't know where my Mom is. She left when I was small. Not that it matters. All Dad told me was she was full of herself."

"And your Dad didn't mind caring for you, dragging you around all over the place to gigs and stuff?"

"Nah," I said. "He was a good Dad. He liked having me around. He showed me the side of the music industry and how hard you have to work to 'make it'. It was a good lesson. I do want to be like him."

"What does he do now?"

"He does odd jobs, here and there," I said. "But he saved every penny he earned for me. That money that was in my luggage was his life savings. He just handed it to me and told me to use it to survive and chase my dreams."

"Really?" Once-ler said with raised eyebrows. "Wow! He encouraged your dreams?"

"Yea."

"Man! I'm actually jealous, Abby. It makes me want to have a Dad like yours. He sounds awesome."

"What? You don't have a Dad?"

"He died when I was five," he said. "In a car accident."

"Oh. Sorry," I said.

"Thanks," he said modestly. "I mean, I remember my Dad. All of my happiest memories were with him. He was a dreamer and a musician...he was not successful though. The last thing he left me was his guitar and his hat."

Wow! What a sad story. Makes me feel bad for this guy. Another thing we have in common: absent parent in our lives.

"Well, thanks for breakfast, Once," I said. "I gotta head into town and wait for that phone call about my luggage."

"You're welcome," he said with a smile. "Maybe I'll see you in town."

"Alright. Is it OK if I leave Bad Bettie here? I don't like to drag her around."

"Sure, Abby. She'll be safe and sound."

I said goodbye to Once-ler and head into town,. Honestly, I can't live with this guy. I mean, I'm glad he offered this, but I'm not comfortable. Not that I don't mind living with boys, it's just this guy is so nice...and I don't like taking advantage. Plus I don't think he would like to put up with my habits and messiness.

Once in Greenville, I head to the Cafe...

"Hey!" said Susan. "Y'think you can work. I got rush hour."

I sighed, knowing that this woman had expectations. I went to the back and tied on my black apron and got to work.

The morning rush hour was crazy, everyone needed their coffee...more shouting, hissing of the coffee makers and espresso machines, the heat...

I was relieved once the morning rush slowed down. It got boring. While we cleaned up from the rush, there was a crowd of people near an open-air gazebo...and some guy.

"Jeez!" scoffed Susan with a head shake. "There's that loser again!"

"What does she mean by loser?" I asked one of my coworkers named Tim.

"Oh," said Tim. "There's this guy that comes here every day, trying to sell some stupid useless invention of his. He's really pathetic. Wanna go throw tomatoes at him while on break?"

OK. I don't think it's a good idea, but I'm in no position to say no. I really need to make friends in this new town. I just shrug nonchalantly and go with Tim and my other coworker, Jen. We buy some tomatoes from some guy and as I get closer to the open-air gazebo, I see who this 'pathetic loser' they are talking about...

It's Once-ler!

The poor guy is covered in mushy, rotten tomato pulp all over his face, hair and clothes! Everyone is laughing at him. It reminds me of a horrible scene from _Carrie_ where the girls are pelting Carrie White with tampons and sanitary napkins when she's having her first period. This...is worse though.

"Go on, Abs," said Tim.

"I...uh..." I began hesitantly.

"C'mon, Abby!" goaded Jen, tossing a tomato in my hand. "Do it!"

Oh my God! What the hell am I doing?! This guy was so nice to me ever since I got here. Was I really going to do this?! My two coworkers are pelting this guy...what the fuck?! Why am I standing here frozen like a deer in headlight?! I hope he doesn't see me...

"What are you waiting for? Get him!" goaded my coworkers.

"I..." I began, blushing. There's so much pressure...

* * *

**an: uh oh! Cliffhanger! What will Abby do?**


End file.
